by Karen Kirst
Olivia felt terrible entertaining such thoughts and hadn’t planned to voice them to another person. She shouldn’t have said anything, especially to Brady.
“Can I ask you something?”
“About?”
“Derek.”
He replaced the marker in its container. “What about him?”
“Did you ever notice his preoccupation with privacy?”
Leaning back in the cushioned chair, he swiveled toward her. “He wasn’t interested in social media, I know that much.”
“It was more than that.” She smoothed her hand along the length of her braid. “He was almost paranoid about keeping a low profile. I never got a clear explanation why he wanted me to keep my maiden name. He said something about his mom keeping hers as a show of independence. We argued about it. As usual, he got his way in the end. I shared one wedding photo online, and he nearly flipped. I thought it was due to his military training, but I’m rethinking that theory.”
Brady’s expression was difficult to read. “We are taught to be careful in our online activity,” he said slowly. “Safety is a priority.”
She got the feeling he was being evasive. “He took it to the extreme, though.”
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Reaching into her back pocket, she retrieved the folded newspaper. “This was in one of his shirt pockets. I can’t imagine why he’d be interested in something like this. I was hoping you could provide some insight.”
TEN
The words on the page made no sense. His mind couldn’t process the news article’s meaning thanks to the spike of apprehension in his system.
No reason to panic, he told himself, scanning the article about a string of violent crimes. There was no mention of the Giordanos. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”
He slid it across the table and prayed she’d drop the subject.
Her brows smashed together. “He didn’t mention this town to you?”
“No.” Brady kept his face and voice neutral. Inside, he was grateful the town in the article wasn’t the same one Derek had resided in. “I’ve never heard of it.”
Why, oh why, had he ever promised to keep this secret? Derek’s confession had had the effect of an earthquake, and he was still feeling the aftershocks. His closest friend had been living a lie. He’d created an elaborate ruse, complete with a classic American backstory featuring people who didn’t exist and experiences he’d made up. Derek had fed Brady and Olivia the lines, and they’d believed them without question. As Derek’s best friend, the deception had been hard to process and even more difficult to forgive. But Olivia was his wife. She’d entered a sacred union with the make-believe version of him.
Brady hadn’t had long to feel bad for her or to convince Derek to tell her who he really was. He’d passed mere weeks later. Afterward, Brady hadn’t even considered telling her. Tarnishing her memories of her dead husband would accomplish nothing.
Decisions he made long ago were now at odds, though. He’d made a promise to stay silent, which meant he was breaking his commitment to honesty. The more he learned of her true character, the more the prospect of hurting her bothered him. Tell her or deceive her? Neither option gave him peace.
Olivia shoved the paper into her pocket. “I’ll check the rest of his clothes when I get a chance. Maybe there are more articles that will shed light on why this was important enough to hang on to.”
* * *
George returned with their supper, and they ate in silence. Marines who’d served with Derek dropped in to check on them. They were glad to see Olivia, of course, but expressed dismay over the circumstances. The office eventually emptied of everyone besides essential personnel. Brady’s patience was wearing thin by the time the lieutenant colonel gave them permission to leave.
Corporal Baker drove them to Olivia’s house. Another MP was already in the driveway and reported no activity in the vicinity.
“Sergeant Conner has the overnight shift,” Cat informed Olivia. “I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.”
“Thank you for everything,” Olivia said, her voice full of gratitude.
“I didn’t do anything besides play chauffeur. The captain here is the true hero.”
Olivia blushed. “He is, isn’t he?”
“Enough of that,” Brady groaned. “Please, tell the lance corporal again how sorry I am for earlier.”
“I’ll think about it.” Cat grinned. “Franklin’s a cocky guy and can stand to eat humble pie now and then.”
After she left, Brady insisted on doing a sweep of the house. When he was satisfied they didn’t have unwanted guests, he pulled off his shoes and stretched out on the couch.
Olivia crossed her arms and stared at him. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
“You know I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Scared to go home, Captain?”
He hid a smile. “Don’t tell anyone.”
Sighing, she pulled something from her pocket and eased onto the coffee table. She leaned toward him and extended her hand, palm up.
“I was about to give you this when we were rudely interrupted.”
Brady scooted up to rest against the cushioned couch arm. The twin silver disks fell into his outstretched hand with a clink.
His chest seized. “Derek’s dog tags.”
“He wanted you to have them.”
He ran his fingertips over the imprinted words. The name was fake and the social security number probably “borrowed” from a deceased person. But the man who’d earned Brady’s respect and friendship had been very real. He missed him every single day.
Lifting his gaze, he found Olivia watching him. “Thank you.”
Her smile was wistful. “I told you earlier that I’m glad you’re here with me. I can confidently say Derek would be glad, too.”
* * *
The next morning, Brady insisted on following Olivia to work. The salt-truck delivery driver had to have been new, because he got wedged in the curved access ramp and blocked the employee parking lot. After a fifteen-minute wait, she asked another employee to walk with her inside so that Brady could go on ahead to work. Thankfully, George was aware of their situation and would let his tardiness slide.
As she let herself into her office and perused her emails, her thoughts kept returning to that morning and how Brady’s presence should’ve made things awkward but didn’t. After she’d descended the stairs, she’d found his pillow stacked atop a precision-fold blanket. The aroma of roasted coffee had lured her to the kitchen, where he’d greeted her with a smile and a brewed cup waiting for her. They’d taken their coffee and toasted bagels to the table and discussed their respective work agendas. The exchange would’ve been pleasantly mundane if it hadn’t turned to Detective Shaw’s investigation and their hope that he’d uncover new information soon.
“Olivia? Do you have a moment?”
Startled, she bumped a container of paper clips and tie tacks off the desk. “Zach.” She stared at the dark-headed, bearded man in the doorway. He was wearing his usual flannel shirt, khaki pants and lumberjack boots. “Um, sure, I have time.”
Rolling her chair out of the way, she bent to gather the spilled items.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt important work,” the vet said, joining her beside her desk.
“You didn’t. I was reading through some correspondence.”
He helped her clean up the mess and, when she was seated again, closed the door. Immediately, her internal alarm jangled. Could the kind-faced vet be hiding a violent streak?
“What’s on your mind, Zach?”
He took the chair opposite and propped his arms on the side rests. “I’d like to know why you pointed the cops my direction. I had a visit from a detective late last night who launched very pointed questions at me.” His brown eyes brimmed with disappointment. “I’m sorr
y about your current troubles, Olivia, but how could you possibly think I’m responsible?”
“The police are looking into every person I have contact with here,” she hedged. “You aren’t being singled out.”
His chin jutted. “I didn’t get that impression. This wasn’t a casual interrogation. He brought officers to search my home, but I told him to get a warrant first.”
“If you have nothing to hide—”
“If?” He pounded the desk with his fist. “You do doubt me, then.”
Bolting to his feet, he began to pace the tight space. Olivia felt cornered. Trapped. She stood, too, and rolled her chair into its slot. Her pulse raced, slowed, raced again. Zach was a certified diver. He’d know how to sabotage a dive. But was he familiar with carbon monoxide gas? Was he skilled with a sniper rifle?
Zach swerved and stalked behind her desk. She backed up and bumped into the shelving unit.
He stopped short, his frown deepening. “I’d never hurt you, Olivia. I happen to like you. Very much. I want for us to get to know each other better, when you’re ready to date again.”
“Zach, please—”
“Don’t say no. In fact, don’t say anything. This isn’t the time.” He gestured to her cast. “You’re obviously under a great deal of strain and aren’t thinking clearly.”
The door swung open. Maya stood in the hall, her hand on her hip. “Olivia, Roman sent me to find you. He wants to go over some data or something.”
Zach’s attempt to mask his displeasure was unsuccessful. “We’ll finish this discussion later.”
He edged past Maya, his footsteps swallowed up by the carpet.
Olivia didn’t move. Relief that Maya had shown up filled her. She had been right to tell Detective Shaw about Zach.
Maya huffed. “Can we go now? Bruno and his buddies are here to see me.”
They navigated the corridors and employee elevators in silence. Maya was absorbed by her phone, her fingers skimming over the keyboard as she fired off texts, probably to Bruno, her boyfriend. Near the penguin exhibit, she veered into the restroom. Olivia lingered by the water fountains. While the director’s orders that she always be in the company of another staff member wasn’t convenient, she couldn’t help but be grateful.
The minutes dragged on, and Olivia entered the restroom to check on Maya.
The younger woman stood before the long counter and mirrors. Olivia watched her pop a pill into her mouth and suck in water from the faucet. The prescription container got knocked to the ground in the process. Olivia picked it up and noticed the name printed in black letters.
“Maya, this isn’t your prescription.”
She snatched the bottle, scratching Olivia’s hand with her long nails in the process. “Mind your own business.”
When Olivia had first come to work at the aquarium, Maya had been a different person. She’d had an air of innocence, even naivete, about her. That was long gone. Her eyes had a hardened look now, and Olivia blamed the rough crowd she’d fallen in with.
“I’m worried about you.”
For a second, Maya’s features softened. Then she scowled. “You’re not my mom, okay? These aren’t serious. They’re allergy meds, that’s all.”
Olivia had seen the label information and knew that she was lying. “I care what happens to you.”
“I’m fine.”
There was a distinct lack of conviction behind the words. “When I was growing up, my mom advised me to choose friends wisely. Friends who pull me closer to God. Friends who respect me and want good things for me. Can you say that about Bruno?”
Maya blinked fast and averted her face. “Bruno loves me. His crew accepts me. That’s all I need.”
Tamping down a sigh, Olivia followed her onto the landing and noticed a knot of young men pushing and shoving one another. They were laughing and using off-color language. Thankfully, there weren’t other guests nearby to overhear. The burliest one extracted himself and loped over to Maya. He seized her by the back of the neck and crushed his lips to hers. She seemed to wilt in his arms, as if she was afraid to protest.
Olivia recognized the tattoo on his neck. The local papers had run a story about a street gang and had mentioned the distinguishable mark. While Bruno and Maya were occupied, the others turned their collective attention to her. Their eyes bore evidence of a harsh existence. One with lank brown hair and scruffy facial hair ogled her. He whispered something to another man, something that elicited a bark of laughter. Then he headed her direction, his mouth shifting into a leer. Unease skittered down her spine.
The director’s appearance halted his approach. Ruth’s shrewd gaze took in the scene and landed on Maya. “I assume your friends can all produce admission tickets?”
Maya shrugged off Bruno’s arm. Her face flamed. “They aren’t here to see the exhibits. They only came inside for a few minutes.”
“Send them on their way. After that, come to my office.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Bruno shot Ruth a baleful look before motioning for the others to follow him. Ruth came to stand beside Olivia while the group shuffled out a side entrance.
The smartly dressed brunette eventually turned to her. “I saw a news article about a shooting on the air station. You still live there, correct?”
Her stomach sank. Would the director bar her from working? “For nine more days.”
“The article didn’t mention names of those involved, but I have to ask. Does it have to do with the recent attacks?”
She nodded. “Someone shot at the captain and me. The military police are coordinating with Jacksonville PD to find the shooter.”
“I see.” Her expression turned sympathetic. “I’m not certain it’s in your best interest to continue working.” Waving toward the glass wall, she said, “While we have extra security on hand, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
“What do you expect me to do? Sit inside my apartment until this guy is caught? That could take weeks. Months.” He could evade the law entirely. A depressing, frightening thought. “I have bills to pay. More importantly, I don’t want to lose this job. Please, Ruth.”
Mouth pinched, Ruth stared into the distance. Olivia held her breath. Without her work, how would she keep from obsessing over her faceless enemy?
“I understand what you’re going through,” she said at last. “My sister encountered some trouble last year. Threatening notes. Break-ins. The guy played mind games with her, toying with her like a cat does a mouse. She said her work was the only thing that kept her going.”
“Is she all right?”
“Yes, she’s fine. They identified the guy, and he’s behind bars.”
“I’m glad.”
The skin above Ruth’s nose crinkled. “I’ll let you stay, as long as you promise to be on your guard at all times.”
Olivia restrained herself from giving her a hug. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m not entirely sure this is the right decision.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“You’re set to speak at the gala this weekend?”
“Yes.” The gala was being held in the River Expedition building, and she was part of the staff responsible for setting up the tables and decorating.
“Perhaps having you front and center isn’t such a good idea. Would Roman be able to take your place?”
Olivia searched for the right words. She didn’t want to downplay his role or discount his value.
“Never mind. Your reservations are obvious.”
“I planned out the speech and committed it to memory. It wouldn’t be fair to ask him to step in at the last minute.”
Ruth audibly exhaled. “I was planning on hiring extra security, anyway. We’ll be vigilant to check everyone’s credentials and belongings.”
Olivia relaxed. She’d wor
ked hard on her presentation and had been looking forward to this event for months.
“Ruth?”
They both turned to see the gift shop manager hurrying past a pair of moms pushing strollers.
“Is there a problem?”
“You know the overdue shipment of stuffed animals we received last night? They’ve been stolen.”
Ruth frowned. “Are you sure they haven’t been misplaced?”
“I’m positive. Hank and I have searched both buildings.”
“Excuse me, Olivia.” Glancing out the glass wall, Ruth pointed to Maya, who was still chatting with Bruno. “Wait on your escort.”
Olivia nodded, her thoughts caught on the upcoming gala. It was a black-tie event, complete with a live band and buffet catered by a popular waterfront restaurant. Last year, she’d gone alone because Derek had been on a training mission. She’d assumed she’d be going alone again this year. Brady was determined to be with her during their nonworking hours. Would he be her date? The idea released a flurry of butterflies in her stomach.
She’d rushed into a relationship with Derek, thanks to the heady effect of his full-on pursuit and innate charm. It wasn’t until after the wedding that she’d realized how little she knew about him. That couldn’t happen again.
She rubbed the empty space on her finger where her wedding rings used to be. Be sensible, Olivia. Brady is the last person you should be interested in. He will never see you as anything more than his best friend’s wife.
ELEVEN
“Do you have a tuxedo?”
Baffled by the abrupt greeting, Brady walked past her and stopped in the middle of her living room. “Hello, Olivia. How was your day? No trouble at work, I guess.”
She closed the door and gave him an arch look. “You know the answer to those questions, seeing as the last text you sent me was—” holding up one finger, she checked her phone “—thirty-five minutes ago. I received one an hour before that and another during lunch. Shall I go on?”
